Whispers In Woods
by FullMentalPanic
Summary: Voices of reason and distortion were in conflict around them. Yet, it wasn't the ones outside that had the final say. [Shibuya Operation - Story Storm]
1. Chapter 1

**Whispers In Woods**

 **I**

Blood splashed onto the white marble of the flooring, and Tessa looked askance at the wet stain. He was always quite good about mopping up afterwards, but it was definitively ruining the atmosphere she'd been hoping to create.

She sighed internally, but sat straight, striving to pay attention as she patiently waited through the demonstration. Complimenting him only stalled things long enough for a perfunctory, "Thank you, Highness," and then it was back to blood, business, and pointing out which parts had particular uses. No matter how she couched the request, he always took her completely seriously when she said she was interested in his work.

There was a soft throat clearing to her right, and her sentry became even more efficient in the dressing of the pheasant carcass. With a frown just shy of a pout, Tessa glanced over at Lord Kalinin. The man had lived through more than fifty revolutions of the earth and had the notoriety of having achieved success as both a knight, noble, and adviser. He was also the reason the younger man in front of them had been accepted into the court of Tuatha de Danaan. The two of them had dispatched a career highwayman who had been emblazoning, in a very gruesome way, how much of a difference one person could make.

 _Stronger Hands_

The forest warden in front of her, Sousuke Sagara, had thus far been loyal, respectful, and competent. Tessa had been delighted to have someone in court so, arguably, close to her own age. It was likely that Sagara had seen fewer than twenty winters and almost definite that he had seen more than fifteen. However, no one, including Sagara himself, could confirm it.

The firm girth of his arms and chest revealed that both had been in appreciable use for more than a decade. He was by no means short, but he wouldn't be considered tall either. Tessa pushed her toes against the floor, imagining what would need to be gained to be at his eye level. He had grey eyes just as she did, but where hers were light and shifting, his were unyielding and veracious. They didn't elude, but they also didn't reveal anything.

His past was undiscussed by him and subtly guarded by Lord Kalinin. She was certain there was some significant heritage behind him. Perhaps not exactly noble, but something with undoubted weight. In short, he was worthy of consideration.

 _Wider Jaw_

The only difficulty was that she still couldn't determine if Sagara was simply being politely distant or plainly uninterested. It was approaching the point where the most she could hope for was utter obtuseness on his part. She darted another glance toward Lord Kalinin. He knew exactly what she was getting tired of tiptoeing around. He also stayed wryly neutral whenever she tried to prod out his opinion or advice on the matter. At least he didn't look perpetually disapproving as Lord Mardukas did.

With a quick swipe of a cloth and a twist of his wrist, Sagara had cleaned and sheathed his rather monstrous knife. The whole process had taken a depressingly short amount of time. She occasionally requested a complete practical illustration, which necessitated bringing in a live animal and stretched the duration out. However, that even further damaged the mood she was maneuvering to create.

 _Longer Legs_

Eyes unblinking behind his fringe of dark hair, Sagara was one sharp bow from gathering his various equipment, and dead animals, and taking his leave when there was another throat clearing. Sagara froze, and after a moment Tessa realized that she was the one on the end of Lord Kalinin's pointed stare. She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. He was always so obliquely insistent that she act like the monarch she was.

She twisted the end of her pearly braid round her fingers. Her hair color was nearly identical to Lord Kalinin's. His may have been from age, or as natural as her own. She'd never seen it any other shade. If he wasn't so tall, and so masculine, they could have been mistaken for one another.

 _Grecian Nose_

Further tangling her hair, she reluctantly considered the situation. It wouldn't be dire for a few more days, but they certainly had less than a fortnight before chaos coalesced. It wasn't inevitable, but it would be difficult to avoid, unless she put her sentry to another use besides looking stoic and tempting.

 _Darker Skin_

Tentatively approaching Lord Kalinin's prompt, she nodded and smiled, "Thank you, Sagara. However, there was another reason you were summoned today."

* * *

A/N: So as an intro chapter this is brief and perhaps doesn't convey everything I wanted to encourage further reading, but...deadlines. This is getting off the ground because of the Shibuya Operation Story Storm. If I comply with the guidelines, this will actually be finished in 10 weeks. Wouldn't _that_ be a Christmas Miracle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Whispers In Woods**

 **II**

Kaname shifted her basket to her left hip and reordered her tasks for the day. The broom was wearing out, but it would last for another week, the flour was almost gone, butter was completely gone but too expensive, she needed to get more thread, find the lowest prices on fruit, and pin down who was following her through the village market.

The miller and the tailor had stalls right next to one another, and were friends besides. Sometimes this resulted in mutually spiked prices, but if one of them was in a generous mood the other would usually follow. Apricots were still in season, and someone was always hawking apples, so those prices shouldn't be too unseemly. The man following her wasn't anyone she recognized.

He hadn't seemed like anyone to take notice of at first. The village was close to the main trade routes, and strangers were common. She'd seen him near the courier's cart when she'd been giving, probably loud, advice to one of her more chilly neighbors. Since emphasizing the need to clear dead underbrush off one's land during the crispy summer months seemed more important than a far off unfamiliar face, she hadn't given the unknown man any mind.

The day had started out lovely and clear, but Kaname knew from experience that it would turn uncomfortably hot around an hour before noon. She'd left her own home when the grass was still wet with dew. Her schedule to finish all her outdoor tasks before the heat rolled in had allowed for some unplanned incidentals. However, she thought with annoyance, having to deal with a sticky outsider could throw off her whole routine.

She'd idly noted he was still in the area when she'd been selecting some carrots, distantly realized he was only a few stalls away from her when she'd been bartering down the price of cabbage, and seen him keep no more than fifteen feet away through the celery, spinach, and radishes. At the central well, she'd wetted a cloth to wrap around and keep fresh her produce as she suspiciously eyed her follower.

The man had the build of a successful farmer or woodsman; looking well-fed but also as if he had to engage in manual labor to keep food on the table. A tradesman was possible, but he had nothing but a small sack tucked through his belt. Unless he was dealing in extreme specialty, and small, goods he didn't seem to be there to barter anything. Additionally, his hair looked distinctly as if he'd cut it himself, which was typical of those who made a living in the forest or field and only occasionally made it to the village. He could have been there to buy, and he had looked through every stall behind her. Yet, she hadn't seen him actually purchase or trade for anything, and he'd left an increasingly irritated trail of merchants and hawkers in his wake.

Three out three of the last carts she'd passed knew nothing about the man who looked around her own age or a bit older. The fourth had winked and suggested Kaname had caught the eye of a foreign dignitary. Kaname was neither impressed nor convinced. Foreign he _might_ be, but unless he was one of those whimsical types who enjoyed dressing beneath them, noble he was not. His trousers and tunic, while not shabby, were definitely worn and all of neutral browns and grays; colors chosen by folk who needed to hide years of wear and stain. Furthermore, none of the colors even closely matched any of the main or lesser noble houses she knew of.

In addition, secretly lurking did not strike her as romantic. It did strike her as amateur pickpocketish or as massive social unawareness. Either way, broad daylight amidst many people who knew her well was probably the best place to set him straight.

Tucking her chin in decision, Kaname spun around and locked her eyes on the man who was ostensibly looking over wool crocheted doilies a dozen feet away. "Are you following me?"

She hadn't been trying even a little to be quiet, and that entire section of the market hushed and looked toward the man who was sideways to her. After a moment, and the elderly lady running the doilies stall giving him a poke, he seemed to realize that ignoring them wouldn't leave him unnoticed. With a sharp turn, he stepped toward her unhesitatingly, frowning slightly.

"You are Kaname Chidori?"

Eyes narrowed and eyebrows squinched, she nodded.

"Yes."

One of her brows arched as she grimaced at his seemingly unabashed answer. An extremely stiff bow later, a sealed scroll was held out to her. A courier? Well, if he'd been trying to be certain of who she was to deliver a message, it did answer a number of questions, even if it did mark him as particularly ineffective at his work.

"As you can see, the light color shows none of the powdered poisons applied to parchment for assassinations or the discoloration resulting from a soak in deadly liquid. If necessary, I can break the seal and unroll it myself to show there is nothing insidious contained inside."

Kaname stared, and then held out a hand for the scroll with a sigh. As if not believing she didn't want further proof of goodwill, he slowly passed it over. The interest of the crowd dwindled as events turned out less exciting than hoped for, and they turned back to their normal hustle and bustle. Heading for a quieter corner, Kaname whirled when she realized the courier was following close enough to brush against the hem of her skirt.

"I have the message. Here! You can go." She dug a small coin from her pocket and tossed it in his direction.

Still with that caught it and offered it back. "Payment has already been issued."

"So why are you following me?" she demanded.

"A reply will be necessary."

"I'll go to courier's cart when I have one ready," she nearly snapped as she turned away again.

"It's urgent," his voice came close behind her.

Kaname threw a glare over her shoulder, perturbed that he met it without any obvious reaction. "Then keep a few feet of distance. If you can step on the hem of my dress, you're _much_ too close."

Finding a still area between two tall houses, Kaname set down her basket and snapped the plain seal in half as she opened the scroll. The contents had her nearly staring in opened mouth shock.

"The cheval inlay will prove the crest's authority in sunlight."

Everyone who had been through basic schooling in Tuatha de Danaan knew the details of the Monarch's Crest, and how to prove it's authenticity. Considering that she hadn't moved for a few dozen seconds, the courier had probably decided she need a reminder. Shifting so her own shadow didn't cover the parchment, she watched as light struck the gold, glittering crest. Vines dove and rose beneath stylized ground and water in the relief, and seven points around the circle shone bright white. The light joined in the air an inch above the center of the crest, and a fair, flaming sword took shape.

It was only around half a finger in length, but Kaname still took a full minute before looking at the actual words on the parchment. She had always been rather enchanted by the elegant language of the royal court. What she hadn't realized was that it took an abominably long time to get to the point. It took two paragraphs to complete a simple "hello", two more to obliquely identify her as well as her many imagined attributes, and an unnecessarily long one to establish the majesty of the person who had written it. Halfway through Kaname had skipped to very end to verify that it had been signed Teletha Testarossa, Monarch of Tuatha de Danaan. Kaname had been suitably impressed for a paragraph and a half more, and then gone back to being irked.

Translating the flowery words that seemed increasingly bombastic with every sentence, she gathered that something of indefinite national importance was occurring that required her to leave her home. Immediately.

Well.

It went on for a while after that, assuring her of the reliability of her escort, the courier, the service she would be doing to her country, and listed off about twenty variations in titles of the ruler before she was again at Queen Testarossa's signature. Her hands clenched on the parchment. If it hadn't been such high-quality it would have torn.

"You've finished? Leaving down this alley will attract minimal notice."

"Wait," she growled and looked up. "I think this could be made more clear."

"All additional inquiries will be answered on the way," he spoke briskly and moved to usher her further from the main thoroughfare.

Kaname was having none of it, and faced him fully with feet planted. "Where are we going? Why are we going? For how long? These are questions I would like answered _now_."

"It is too dangerous to discuss those details at this location." He wasn't much taller than she was, but he looked equally, if more quietly, determined.

The missive had hinted at various perils, however the circumspect wording made it seem like those could amount to no more than a missed meal or an unusually difficult to mend sleeve. If it hadn't been for that irrefutable crest, she would have argued the letter's legitimacy. As things stood, she knew what the duty of a citizen of de Danaan entailed. It didn't follow that she would do it with a cheery disposition.

"Is there anything to assure that my house, my property, will be maintained for me until whenever it is I'll return?"

"Yes." He spoke directly and bore the same closed expression he'd worn ever since she'd first seen him. He could be lying to her face and she wouldn't be able to tell.

She felt her mouth twist into a slightly manic grin. "Well, I'll just finish up in the marketplace and we'll be on our way."

"We should depart at once."

"Indeed? I remember you wandering as if you had all the time the world until _I_ confronted you."

Something in his eyes twitched but he pressed on. "This would be the best time to leave without drawing attention."

"Not in this gossipy neck of the woods. The last that twenty to thirty people saw of us was a young man and woman heading into an isolated area alone. We'll be branded ecstatic lovers and elopers by sunset! I may be leaving my home, but I'm not abandoning my reputation."

"Compromised character may cause difficulties upon your return. However, considering the likely dangers -"

" _Also_ I am not wearing white and light blue for a journey through the forest. It's completely impractical!" Her blouse and skirt would be stained irreparably within a few days. If she was going for an undetermined trek in the forest, she would wear garments that were up to the task.

"The colors would be very noticeable," the man nodded. "We can delay briefly to retrieve more nondescript clothing."

"My house is on the other side of town. We can reach it by continuing through the market."

"Bartering and stopping at all the stalls will take too long."

"Leaving the village and circling around while staying far enough away not to be seen will take _longer_. Besides, unless you're planning on strangling and scavenging every meal for us, taking provisions will be an excellent idea."

"Scavenging meals can be done quickly enough for the allowable time frame."

"Having an alternate food source will also be beneficial. Is there an allowance for this little adventure?"

"...Yes."

"We'll be using that to stock up on handy victuals. Three silver coins and two copper should handle it. I'll meet you back at my house." She was about to give him directions when he interrupted.

"It will be safer if I accompany you."

" _Then_ we're back to the same problem of wild speculation about our relationship." She groaned as he looked unmoved. "We'll say we realized we're cousins. That will also give an excuse for buying enough food for something celebratory."

"Wouldn't a more distant relation be more probable?"

"Any more distant than cousins and half the village will think it's the perfect opportunity to avoid being a spinster. We'll say cousins." She pasted on a smile. "Try to seem glad about it."

"Agreed." The slight downturn to his mouth grew a little more pronounced as his brows furrowed.

"Do your best," Kaname said dubiously, and marched out between stalls and carts.

Since it didn't seem like the courier had brought a horse or anything to make carrying supplies easier, they wouldn't be able to bring to much. What would certainly help with keeping the meals interesting, and from going rancid, would be salt and herbs. Some of those she already owned, but that stock could be supplemented a little. She swept up to the appropriate stall and brightly asked for what she needed.

"This is more than I usually have the pleasure of selling to you, Miss Chidori. Did something happen?" The vendor beamed and scrutinized the courier like a hawk.

"Yes! I need to make sure everything I prepare is special for the next few days. It seems one of my uncles had more children than I was aware of. This is my cousin!" It sounded about as contrived as she'd been worried it would. Especially because she was momentarily at a loss for what the scroll had said the courier's name was. It was something alliterative, with an 'S'. She grit her teeth behind her smile and willed for the story to be bought.

"Really?" The man behind the counter enjoyed rumors more than anyone else in this stretch of sellers, and he eagerly leaned toward the courier. "That's certainly some unexpected news."

"The discovery was coincidental," Mr. S frowned at the vendor.

"Where do you hail from?"

"Currently I live primarily in Mithril," he named off the capital of de Danaan just as Kaname was about to make something up. She didn't know if he was being honest or not, but the city was large enough to be both unsuspicious and hard to prove one way or the other.

"You must rub elbows with some real upper class sorts in that area," the herb seller waggled his eyebrows. "Think you could get our Miss Chidori attached to someone titled and well to do?"

"This is action commonly taken by male relatives. Therefore, I will exert all effort to provide a list of acceptable candidates excelling in qualities that would allow them to sustain Miss Chidori and any offspring with food, clothing, and shelter that could withstand a moderate raid for the average length of time necessary for sentinel forces to arrive." The courier spoke with hardly any inflection, completely straight-faced.

Nodding somewhere between amusement and bafflement, the herbalist bundled up Kaname's order and spoke lowly as he handed it over and she smiled rigidly. "On a second look, I doubt this fellow would be much assistance in that area." Raising his voice he spoke jovially, "Strapping young lad like yourself probably has all sorts of experience in breaking hearts. Got a sweetheart back home who's pining for your return?"

"There is no person of that nature in my acquaintance," he stated, still with no discernible change in expression or tone.

"Might have something to do with that scar," the herbalist mused as he gave Kaname a sly look and motioned toward the long, dark line above Mr. Sa -Sagara's! - left jaw and the shorter one that bisected it. "Though most women seem to like a few marks on their men, there are a few that are put off by it. Maybe that's the type you prefer? I have an ointment guaranteed to make any scar under five years old unnoticeable in two weeks!"

"I've had that scar longer than five years."

"Well even then it'll help it fade! Unless of course you've had it longer than ten."

"I've had it longer than ten years."

"Thank you for the herbs!" Waving farewell and hustling them along before the herbalist could think of another spin to put on his snake oil, Kaname hissed at Sagara, "Don't answer questions like that!"

He straightened in what she took for surprise. "Should I have bought the ointment without going through the socially accepted motions of bartering?"

"Not that, what you said about finding 'acceptable candidates'! Don't mention things like the likelihood of a bandit attack. No normal citizen would think of that! You should talk about things like the reliability of their trade or how they'll be able to get by even during a sparse crop season or a drought."

"Especially in a more isolated settlement like this one, raids are always a possibility," he insisted.

"There haven't been any highwaymen in this village since before I was born!"

"The last recorded attack was eighteen years ago. Prior to this, raids had been taking place on a monthly basis for the past five years. This was attached to both the chaos and hostilities of the War of Similitude. Given the current mortality rates, it's conceivable another such event could occur during your lifetime."

"Fascinating," Kaname ground out. "Try to answer every question with a simple 'yes' or 'no'."

Sagara dipped his chin, "Agreed."

She was able to keep most of his interaction to grave nodding after that. A few more items that would keep well on the trail were selected, and she pondered what else might make things less troublesome. She had flint at home, and several blankets that could be used in a semblance of bedrolls. Any efforts to get some input from the courier on what they might need was met by urging to hurry things along. Near the edge of the village, she gave him one last chance to think of anything he might need that he wasn't able to fit into that pouch held up by his belt.

"I left all essentials near your home."

"What!"

"I hid my pack in the woods near your home this morning. I took great care with its concealment and it's very unlikely that it has been found."

"You've been following me since I left my house?" Kaname demanded, annoyed that she hadn't noticed him sooner.

"Yes," Sagara answered, unperturbed.

Kaname decided that if he was missing anything he could do without. She led them straight toward her house, though he already knew the way, with the courier marching alertly behind.

Rifling through her basket, Kaname tried to work through some of her simmering resentment. Considering how she had several vegetables that would spoil quickly on the trail, looking over her purchases only served to increase her irritation. Last minute notice from the capital and last moment notice from the courier ensured that she would be hard pressed to keep her larder from going to waste. They were far enough from the village that she could accuse Sagara with a bit more volume, and she angled toward him with a scowl.

"Tell me again," she flung at him as they drew nearer her house. Who knew when she would see it again. "Why did you take your time lollygagging around behind me if it's so important to leave quickly? It was much too long to just confirm who I was."

"Asserting you are Kaname Chidori was part of the reason for the delay. The rest was to assure that you weren't being followed."

" _Was_ there anyone following me, besides the obvious?"

"I observed no one."

" _Now_ can you say whom you think might have been dangerously trailing after me?"

His eyes roved over the empty forest surrounding them. "Not yet."

Her own eyes rolled, and she wondered if she'd be able to give an extremely frank evaluation of this whole business once it was all over. Circling around a particularly massive oak, her small home came into view. Like most of the buildings in the village it was straw thatched with white plaster between the dark beams of its frame. It had been smaller and more dilapidated when she'd bought it four years ago, but it was still a single story. She'd annually coaxed sweet peas to grow up the east wall around the door, and there was a bit of a garden the rabbits were going to enjoy devouring when they realized she was no longer there.

A snap and a rustle drew her eyes slightly behind her and she saw Sagara tugging a compact, but heavy looking, bundle from the underbrush. Without a national authority figure to holler at, Sousuke Sagara was the only available target for her aggravation. Which wasn't entirely fair. Kaname gnawed on the inside of her lower lip.

"How long do you assume it will take to pack?"

"And to change clothes?" She reminded. Breathing out she tried to hold back her feelings of contention and offer a reasonable schedule. "Give me a little more than an hour."

"We can allow no more than a quarter of an hour."

All of the suppressed aggression came rushing back. "That's impossible! I need to pack garments, bedding, flint, the supplies I bought, the food I already have at home, and put on a different dress!"

"No more than a single change of clothes is necessary. I have two bedrolls, flint, and the basic ingredients for several meals. Any loss of your perishable possessions is regrettable -"

"It's _avoidable_! I only need a little more time, and you still haven't seen any highwaymen or bandits or whatever it is your looking for so we don't need to leave right away!"

"Getting out before any hostile activity would be ideal."

She glared as she opened the door on its recently oiled hinges. "I'll come out _when I'm done._ Wait outside," she growled and slammed the door in his face. Turning to the main room with its combined eating space and kitchen, she heard the door open behind her.

"It is not wise to enter an unknown area alone."

 _I must not pummel the courier._ Her shoulders hunched as she reigned herself in and dropped her basket on the table that had belonged to her mother. "This is my _home_! Or at least it is for next quarter hour!"

Clenching her hands into fists, she resolved to ignore him and stalked into her room. She tried not to process the memories attached to it as she pulled a good sized satchel out of the trunk that had been in the family for three generations. Standing, she saw him going through her wardrobe.

"What are you doing!" She squawked, rushing over and seriously considering smacking him with the satchel.

"Assuring there is no hostile presence," he said matter of factly and moved to look under the bed she'd only gotten a decent frame for a year ago.

"Get out!" she ordered.

Pushing himself off the floor, he swung his eyes around one final time as he headed for the door. "Remember the schedule."

"I'll be done when I'm done!"

"Anything you can pack in a quarter hour, and carry, you can take with you," he said in the tone of one who believed he was being entirely reasonable.

" _Fine_. Just get out, wait outside!" She shut him out with a bang and started to unbutton herself with furiously fumbling fingers.

Once she was in one of her more drab and older dresses, and had her newer blouse and skirt stowed hopefully in her wardrobe, she was breathing close to normally again. She suspected the bedrolls he had packed would be spartan, so she folded a few extra blankets into her satchel, along with a few sets of undergarments and a hairbrush, and headed back into the main room.

Finding no courier in the area unwound her a few degrees more. He might simply be in one of the few other rooms in her house, snooping about, but at least she didn't have to lay eyes on him immediately. Setting the satchel on the table, she stepped toward the pantry to salvage what she could from her larder. There was bread rising on the windowsill and she wondered if there was any possible way to bring it along. In the pantry, she found Sagara.

"I told you to wait outside," she snapped irritably, a breath before she noted the shorter and neater hair.

He turned.

He wasn't Sagara.

Kanama gripped the doorframe and challenged with more confidence then she felt, "Who are you?"

In answer, he began to unsheathe a long, pale sword.

"Wa-wait!" she stammered as she scrambled back. "You can't -"

Her words were broken off in a yelp as she was pulled forcefully to the side. She barely avoided clunking her head against the ground as she caught her weight on her hands, and her hip. Through tilted vision she saw Sagara block the progress of the sword with a knife over a foot long. Its blade was dwarfed by the sword.

One of the stranger's hands moved further down the sheathe, then it darted back toward Sagara with the gleam of steel. Sagara jumped back, there was a flash of his own knife, and a small dirk flew free of the fray to clatter on the floor. In the space, the stranger's sword was completely free and swinging toward the smaller man's head. Steel shrieked against steel as one blade was stopped by the other. Arms above his head and both hands on the hilt of his knife, Sagara strained against the longer weapon as the larger man also bore down with the grip of two hands. Kaname had one heartbeat to think that the courier didn't clear the other man's shoulder, and then Sagara's arms were bending and the sword was rushing down.

The tip of the knife swiveled to the ground and the sword rode the outside edge as the knife hilt came up. Sagara stepped forward and thrust the hilt solidly under the other man's chin. The stranger's head snapped back with a crunch, the sound almost covering the similar one as Sagara bodily slammed the other's sword arm against the door frame. The longer blade dropped to the floor. After a moment of swaying, the stranger did as well.

Sagara was crouched over him in a second, grabbing his hair and driving his head twice against the wooden flooring. Then the knife was right next to the other man's mouth and Kaname gasped at what might happen next. When the blade was held steady, she realized Sagara was watching for the mist of breath against the steel.

"Is he alive?" she quietly asked.

"Yes." The knife slid down to the man's throat and the edge turned toward the skin.

"Stop!"

Sagara's crouch spun toward Kaname and the knife moved further from the skin, but into a much more obvious stabbing position as his other hand slightly lifted the man's head by his hair. The 'courier's' eyes swept the room, lingering especially on the windows and doors. Then he spoke to Kaname with low urgency.

"Where is the threat?"

"Nowhere." Kaname used a side table to pull herself shakily to her feet. "He's unconscious, just leave him."

"He'll follow us."

"He was already beaten. He knows if he comes after us he could die."

"He may not be alone. This is a good time to reduce the enemies' forces. If he leaves he'll have information that could be deadly if spread. Killing him is the logical action."

It was. On the other hand, and the one she was trying to hold on with, Kaname knew she wouldn't be able to follow Sagara into the unknown right after she'd seen him smear his knife with the blood of a helpless man. "Tie him up."

"That would take time and he'll escape. We need to leave promptly."

"Take him with us!"

"...Carrying him would be burdensome and guarding him when he wakes is unfeasible."

"Well - there's - Don't kill him!" Kaname shouted as she saw the knife dip nearer the exposed throat.

Sagara looked at her close to unreadably. "Finish packing, Miss Chidori. You don't have to watch. I can also construct a noose so there's no blood -"

"I. Don't. Want. You. To. Kill. Him."

"The most expedient -"

"The most expedient option is what works! And if you try to kill him I'll try to stop you. I'll get in the way, I'll argue, I'll fight you. We're already beyond the quarter hour! How much more time do you want to waste here? And I won't follow you afterwards. Do you want to spend another half hour here and then have to drag me through the forest, or do you want to take five minutes to tie him up and then we can _run_ away?"

She met his grey gaze, unable to tell if he was angry or frustrated as the seconds stretched.

He sheathed the knife. "I'll tie him up."

* * *

A/N: Soooo, not being terribly prompt with posting so far. Maybe that will improve?


End file.
